


in wonderment, at you and yours

by CassandrasDreamworld



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fisting, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strength Kink, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Wall Sex, this is just soft filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26662414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassandrasDreamworld/pseuds/CassandrasDreamworld
Summary: Nuzzling Geralt’s throat, Jaskier moves his hands from ass to hip and gives another squeeze. Looking up from behind his lashes he whispers, “You might want to hold on, darling.” With that, expending no effort whatsoever, Jaskier lifts Geraltup.The witcher’s legs instinctually wrap around the slim waist and his hands find hold on the bard's shoulders. He lets out awhine, Jaskier’s action having sent pleasure sparking down directly into his cock. “Fuck.” His head falls forward, eyes half closed and lips parted, face framed by stray hair.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 26
Kudos: 392





	in wonderment, at you and yours

**Author's Note:**

> hey ho! i'm coming with a fic that has actually been finished for 3 months already but uhhh past me was a bit too enthusiastic writing it and absolutely fucked the tenses up, which took some time to right lol
> 
> this is my first ever smut so like be maybe a bit gentle xD
> 
> i hope y'all will enjoy it! ♥

Geralt had his eyes on Jaskier, the whole morning following The Incident.

At first, Geralt was concerned. Understandable, considering the unknown potion Jaskier digested, though it was not his fault that Yennefer just left them lying around in perfectly normal bottles, nevermind ones looking like- and smelling like, mind you- perfectly normal ale. That is to say that after a thorough examination, which involved too much prodding of the decidedly  _ not _ fun kind, and a series of tests that were dreadfully boring but astonishing nonetheless- it was determined that he had acquired a sudden case of superhuman strength. 

Though if Yennefer was to be believed, said strength  _ most  _ likely wouldn't actually be permanent, although there was the slight possibility that he  _ could _ start to exhibit other ‘symptoms’ in which case they should notify her via xenovox immediately. Definitely not reassured by that proclamation, Jaskier started kicking up a fuss at which point Yennefer rolled her eyes and left via portal in her usual display of terrifying power, leaving an outraged bard and a slightly disgruntled witcher in her wake.

Though he was outraged only as long as it took for him to notice the witcher watching him with blown out pupils whenever he easily picked something up which shouldn't regularly be picked up by anyone, lest they wanted to break their back. 

They made a few more tests to determine Jaskier’s limits, the bard watching his witcher whenever he picked up something new, each item heavier than the last. 

He delighted in watching Geralt swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing and his pupils dilating more and more, and when he managed to lift a godsdamned  _ anvil _ without as much as breaking a sweat- well. An anvil that would make even a witcher sweat with effort, no less.

Suffice to say that Jaskier very much looks forward to retreating to their shared cottage for the night. He is suddenly very grateful for Yennefer’s taste of luxury and ability to acquire private houses, huts, or cottages, wherever she went.

Jaskier has many great and filthy ideas he can’t wait to try out, most notably having Geralt against a wall, or  _ multiple  _ walls, the cottage is certainly big enough for that. He just hopes the walls could withstand them.

Damn waiting for nightfall.

Dropping the anvil off at its previous spot, Jaskier turns to the still staring Geralt and lifts an eyebrow, “Say, why don’t we get a very early night in, for once?”

Without a word Geralt grabs Jaskier’s hand and steers them towards the cottage at a brisk pace, making Jaskier break out in delighted laughter. “I shall take this as a yes, my love.” 

The moment they arrive and let the door fall shut behind them, Geralt already has maneuvered them to the nearest wall, kissing Jaskier hungrily and pressing their bodies together. A sharp tug at his hair makes him groan and stop, lifting his head to ask for what is wrong but never getting that far because from one moment to the next,  _ Geralt _ was the one up against the wall and Jaskier pressing against him.

The quickness of the switch and Jaskier’s display of strength makes his head spin, groaning as he bares his throat, his head hitting the wall with a dull thump. His action is rewarded by a breathless sort of laughter before Jaskier swoopes down to set his teeth against Geralt’s throat. Kissing, licking, and  _ biting _ , sucking hickeys into the lovely bared throat and soothing them with his tongue.

Jaskier lets off his ministration to capture Geralt's lips again in a filthy kiss, only stopping to draw in a few deep breaths. The bard's hands wander down Geralt’s body, smoothing up and down a few times before resting them on his ass.

“I,” he starts, watching with keen eyes how his witcher swallows again, “saw you watching me.” 

Casting his eyes down, Geralt licks his lips. “Did you?” He sounds and  _ looks  _ wrecked already, voice gone low and pupils blown so wide one could barely see a slim golden ring around them. 

Jaskier chuckles and leans down to mouth along the witcher's jaw, kissing and nipping, before lightly scraping his teeth over the shell of Geralt’s ear. “I have.” He murmurs, emphasizing it by squeezing his lovers bottom  _ hard _ , making him moan and arch up. 

Nuzzling Geralt’s throat, Jaskier moves his hands from ass to hip and gives another squeeze. Looking up from behind his lashes he whispers, “You might want to hold on, darling.” With that, expending no effort whatsoever, Jaskier lifts Geralt  _ up _ .

The witcher’s legs instinctually wrap around the slim waist and his hands find hold on the bard's shoulders. He lets out a  _ whine _ , Jaskier’s action having sent pleasure sparking down directly into his cock. “ _ Fuck _ .” His head falls forward, eyes half closed and lips parted, face framed by stray hair. 

Jaskier has never seen something more beautiful.

Chuckling, Jaskier gazes up at Geralt in adoration and says, “So lovely darling. Already so responsive and I haven’t even really done anything  _ yet _ .” He gave Geralt’s bottom another appreciative squeeze, feeling the other’s fingers tightening around his shoulders.

Nosing up, he catches Geralt’s bottom lip between his teeth, lightly sucking and biting once, twice, before diving in for another searing kiss. Pulling back for air, Jaskier wears a feral little grin, his eyes shining bright with arousal and mischief.

With a soft and sweet voice, a near complete contradiction to his expression, he breathes out, “Dear heart, I’m going to  _ ruin _ you.”

Geralt tries to buck up his hips at that but is stopped by the iron grip the bard has on them, letting out a desperate, “ _ Jaskier, please. _ ” This makes the bard grin wider, adjusting his grip more securely and shuffling back a few inches.

“Take out your cock, love.”

Geralt’s hands fly to his crotch, scrambling and nearly ripping the laces in his eagerness to obey. The sight makes heat coil in Jaskiers gut, reveling in the sight.

Finally the witcher’s cock springs free, already hard and leaking. The pre-come glistening down the thick shaft makes Jaskier’s mouth salivate. 

He groans, “Fuck, you’re such a good boy for me.” He watches in delight as Geralt’s cock  _ throbs _ in response to the praise and he hums at the witcher’s needy whine.

“Fuck, Jas-  _ please _ .” Geralt looks absolutely wrecked, hair disheveled and pretty lips red and only slightly swollen. At times like this it's a right shame that the witcher heals as fast as he does. The love bites from earlier are already fading- Jaskier notes, but that just means he has to make more of them which is definitely not a hardship  _ at all _ . Especially considering the way Geralt has his head thrown back, baring his lovely throat for him.

Jaskier leans forward, now on height with Geralt’s abdomen and nuzzles into it, knowing it drives the witcher insane having all of their clothes still between them. He nuzzles lower, stopping just before the lovely cock, an exhale of air making it twitch and Geralt moan. “Tell me what you want, my love.”

Geralt chokes on his words, fisting one hand loosely into Jaskier’s hair and one into his doublet, trying to find something to hold on to. “ _ Jaskier. _ Fuck-  _ please _ .” 

Lifting his head, Jaskier raises an unimpressed eyebrow and asks innocently, “Please  _ what _ , dear heart? Use your words darling.” Geralt whines in response, eyes squeezing shut and head thrown back.

“ _ Fuck. _ -” Geralt looks down at the smug bard and forces out desperately, “-Please.  _ Please _ suck me off.”

“You only need to ask,” Jaskier chuckles and without further ado, dives down and takes Geralt’s cock into his mouth. The witcher tenses all over and lets out a loud moan, eyes rolling back, trying to buck into the wet heat but is hindered by Jaskier’s iron grip. The knowledge of how easily the bard can hold him down now just turning him on  _ more _ .

Geralt is too keyed up to last long, especially with Jaskier’s talented tongue making him see stars, and so when Jaskier relaxes his throat, going down as far as he is able to- Geralt comes with a bitten off cry. His hands tighten their hold and his body bows forward, curling in on himself while Jaskier milks him through his orgasm, trying to swallow everything he has to give. 

When the aftershocks start to peter out and his cock is left oversensitive, he tugs lightly at the bard's hair, making him pop off with a lewd sound and surging forward in a kiss. Geralt tastes the salty tang of his own release and groans at that, his cock already giving another twitch. 

It is near painful, to have his cock harden again so soon after coming and it makes Geralt let out a low whine, hips bucking up without his conscious decision.

“You really like that, darling don’t you? Getting manhandled by me?” Jaskier murmurs, delighted in Geralt’s fucked out expression. He is utterly enraptured watching how the witcher’s cock starts to slowly harden again, spit slick and red. He can’t resist to blow some air on the tip of it, making Geralt  _ keen _ , trying and failing to rut upwards.

Geralt’s hands tighten where they are holding Jaskier, before relaxing again. His voice cracks when he answers, “ _ Yes _ .” Clumsily he tries to kiss Jaskier again, only managing an open mouthed sloppy meeting of lips before he buries his head into the juncture of the bard’s neck. 

Jaskier moves one of his hands completely under Geralt’s arse, effectively holding the witcher up one-handed, while the other wanders to his head, fingers sinking into snowy white hair. “ _ Darling. _ ” He starts to press kisses on Geralt’s hair, down the side of his face and neck. “So good for me, sweetest.”

Geralt whimpers, his hips making stuttered and aborted movements. “Again. Please- let me. Can I come again?” His words are slurred and muffled against Jaskier’s shoulder but can be heard nonetheless. 

Jaskier shushes him and pets his head, “Hush darling, we have all night and I intend to use that time.” He presses another few kisses to Geralt’s skin. “Thank you for telling me what you want, dear heart.”

And indeed Jaskier  _ is _ grateful for Geralt telling him, it took a very long time for them both to be secure in their relationship and  _ even more _ time for Geralt to completely and fully trust him. Still, it took time and a lot of patience to coax this side of Geralt out of him not only admitting that he  _ did _ indeed want things, but also exactly  _ what _ he wanted.

It had been thrilling and awe inspiring the first time Geralt asked his bard to fuck him, and the more confident they both grew in their bedroom activities the more Geralt seemed to speak up outside of them as well. Even or especially if it was only to express his desire for one particular food.

Without further ado, Jaskier- still carrying Geralt- steers them towards the bedroom, opening the door with his shoulder and gently setting the witcher down on the impressively big bed.

Geralt only stares hungrily as Jaskier begins to undress himself slowly. Clearly putting on a show for him, lingering longer than necessary, pinching a nipple when getting rid of his chemise and letting out a little gasp at that. All the while looking into Geralt’s eyes.

The witcher lets his hand wander down but a look from Jaskier makes him stop, hand gripping his thigh instead and a whine leaving his throat.

Jaskier nearly purrs as he says, “No touching yourself, darling, not until I say so. Understood?” Getting a shaky nod from Geralt he continues his maddeningly slow undressing, until he was standing there as naked as the day he was born, cock heavy and hard, already dripping some pre-come on the floor.

He walks slowly to the bed, kneeling down on the soft sheets just shy of touching Geralt. “What do you want, dearest?” 

The witcher swallows, “Touch me.” His hand is digging into his thigh, the other fisiting into the bedding and with effort he grunts out. “ _ Please. _ ” 

Humming, the bard leans down, hands beside Geralt to support himself and without preamble he takes one of the witcher’s nipples in his mouth and  _ sucks _ . The noise that leaves Geralt’s mouth sounds wrecked, his hands gripping even tighter with the effort of not  _ touching _ .

Jaskier lets off with a lewd pop, and lays his head down onto Geralt’s chest, looking up at the man. “Do you think I could make you come-” Both his hands wandering to the witcher’s chest and  _ squeezing _ , “-just like this. Playing with your chest? Toying with you sensitive nips?”

And oh, how sensitive Geralt’s nipples were, Jaskier was delighted to find that out when they started fucking. 

The witcher lets his head fall back and moans, arching his chest into Jaskier hands, who rewards him with another squeeze.

Grinning Jaskier goes to work, massaging one pectoral while the other is assaulted by his mouth and tongue, suckling and licking, worrying the skin with his teeth. All while Geralt moans and whines, his hips shifting and giving tiny aborted thrusts. The witcher was shaking and sweating from the effort to not move, not to touch himself, to be  _ good _ for Jaskier.

Geralt nearly  _ keens _ when Jaskier bites down on his nipple  _ hard _ , before kissing it in apology and changing sides, lavishing the other nipple with the same enthusiasm as the first.

“So responsive darling.” Jaskier whispers against Geralt’s chest, flicking a nipple with his fingers. “Do you want me to try, making you come like this? Or some other time?” The witcher gasps and then whines, shakes his head. 

“Not- not today.” His voice is hoarse and wrecked, another flick of Jaskier’s fingers making him pause and give another moan. “Touch my cock.  _ Plea _ -” another flick, another moan, another pause, “-se. Please make me  _ come _ .” The witcher whimpers when Jaskier finally takes mercy and wraps a hand around Geralt’s dick.

The lingering spit and the remaining come from his first orgasm is easing the way while Jaskier gives him a handjob with one hand, the other is still massaging Geralt’s pec.

Then, Jaskier  _ bites _ into his breast, the hand that is massaging the other one tweaking Geralt’s nipple, while the hand at the man’s cock gives a few firm strokes. 

The witcher’s eyes roll back, a choked off, “ _ Jaskier _ ,” all the warning he gets before Geralt convulses, coming all over them both, the bard stroking him through his second orgasm.

He stops only when Geralt’s hand tries to fruitlessly grip his wrist, limbs uncoordinated and heavy after his orgasm. Panting, Geralt is so deep in his afterglow, he does not even notice Jaskier talking softly to him at first.

“Ah, there you are again love, everything alright? Want to continue?” Jaskier asks while softly stroking over his lover's body. The witcher can only give a shaky nod, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, his throat not working. The bard notices and uses the hand, not streaked with come, to brush a stray hair out of Geralt’s face. “Good. I will get some water and a few towels, alright? You relax, we still have all night.”

Geralt nods his assent once more and closes his eyes, listening to Jaskier busying around. He lets the soft sounds lull him into a peaceful headspace, knowing his bard will keep him safe.

He comes to awareness once more when he hears glass clinking together and Jaskier’s footsteps returning to the bed. “You still there, my love?” Humming, Geralt opens his eyes and turns to look at Jaskier, who is smiling softly down at him.

“Here.” Jaskier sits down on the edge of the bed, helping Geralt lift his upper body and urging him to drink some water. Setting the glass on the nightstand, he uses this opportunity to kiss Geralt again. One hand softly cupping his head and the other stroking down his side, making the witcher practically melt against him.

Parting for air, Jaskier guids Geralt to lie down again and stands up. 

He leaves for the bathroom before returning with two buckets, setting them down next to the nightstand.

One filled with warm water, the other with soft towels. Reaching for one he carefully wets it and wrings it out, using it to wipe off some of Geralt’s come. Geralt groans when Jaskier reaches his cock and balls, also cleaning those. Under the bard's careful attention his cock starts to get hard again and Geralt  _ whines _ .

“You’re a wonder, darling mine.” Jaskier chuckles, tossing the towel into a corner. “Remember your word?” 

Geralt nods and mutters, “ _ Ghoul _ .” 

“Good.” Jaskier lays a hand on Geralt’s hip. “And if you can’t speak?” He uses his free hand to take a bottle of oil from the nightstand.

The witcher follows it with his eyes, anticipation written in them clear as day. “Then I-. Then I pinch or squeeze you. Three times.” 

Smiling, Jaskier lets go of Geralt, uncorking the bottle and letting oil drizzle down onto his fingers. “Very good. So lovely darling.” Using the non-oiled hand to put the bottle back, he shifts so he is kneeling on the bed.

Jaskier takes Geralt’s leg and puts it over his shoulder, one hand gripping the witcher’s thigh still on the bed and the other slowly sliding down his leg, bypassing his cock and balls, before reaching his hole.

Teasingly, he slides his fingers around the puckered entrance, not breaching yet. Locking eyes with Geralt, he dips one finger in slowly, delighted in watching Geralt try to lie still. Giving aported jerks with his hips, pants and little moans falling from his lips.

When his finger is completely in at last, Jaskier starts to move it slowly in and out. Geralt is always tight, his enhanced healing making him nearly as tight as if it was his first time,  _ every _ time and the both of them revel in it. 

While slowly fucking him open, Jaskier starts to talk softly. “Do you know what I want to do to you with my newfound strength Geralt? So many many lovely things, and we have. All. Night. Long.” Each of the words are punctuated by Jaskier sliding in hard and deep.

“I’m going to finger you for so long that you’ll be begging for my cock. You’ll be so open and wet and  _ wanting. _ ” He plunges in a second finger, making Geralt groan loud and openly, his cock completely hard again.

Scissoring his fingers, Jaskier just keeps talking. “Want to breach you open on my cock, darling. I’m going to make you ride me and when your legs give out-” another deep thrust, “-I can just lift you on and off my cock, now. Like my own personal cocksleeve.” 

Geralt cries out, the stimulus and the image Jaskier keeps building, making him burn in pleasure. “F-  _ fuck _ . Jas, please. Come  _ on _ .”

Slotting in a third finger, makes the witcher  _ keen _ . “This is what you wanted, my wolf?” Jaskier smiled, fingers moving undeterred, working him open messily.

Hands gripped the bedding, nearly ripping them apart, as Geralt couldn’t stop the moans escaping him. “M-  _ more _ .”

“You take my fingers so well, love.” Jaskier said, working him slower now. “Think you can take a fourth finger already?”

In response Geralt just whines and thrusts back, fucking himself on Jaskier fingers. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” 

Smiling, Jaskier gets the oil again, pouring it directly over Geralt’s entrance and then pushing in his fourth finger. The sound that that makes is  _ obscene _ and Geralt tenses, mouth open and panting. Jaskier thrusts in once, hard and with precision, hitting the witcher’s prostate and then again and again. The feeling of that enough for Geralt to come completely untouched. 

The sound he makes is unrestrained and loud. His whole body shaking, tensing and untensing as wave after wave of come spurts from his cock, while Jaskier fucks him through it. Trying to hold onto  _ something _ he tears the sheets with how hard he is gripping them. 

Geralt only barely notices Jaskier talking to him and praising him. He is high on pleasure, enhanced by his already sensitive body  _ and _ his amplified sensitivity after already having come  _ twice _ .

The witcher whines, making needy noises he will deny later and  _ tries _ to writhe on the bed but Jaskier effortlessly holds him down and oh, if that didn’t just further prolong his orgasm.

Jaskier croons, “So good for me love.” He slowly starts to stop fucking Geralt with his fingers, taking them out one by one, leaving the witcher to clench around nothing, whining against the loss. 

This time, Jaskier doesn’t even give Geralt any time to recover before he  _ scoops him up _ with complete ease, and in one smooth motion settles himself down against the headboard for support, then easing Geralt onto his cock.

The witcher  _ keens _ and frantically scrambles for purchase  _ somewhere _ , ending with him gripping Jaskier’s shoulders for dear life, trying to hold himself up. His whole body shakes in overstimulation, taking the bard’s cock in one fell swoop, sending jolts of aftershocks through him.

“Alright darling?” Jaskier asks softly, and smiles wide when Geralt nods desperately. “That’s good, so good.”

After giving Geralt some moments to adjust and for himself to get a good position he plants his feet on the bed for leverage. The witcher’s eyes have fallen closed at some point and when he opens them again, there is only a small golden ring to see around his blown out pupil.

Geralt’s breaths are coming in puffs, and Jaskier is sure his heart must be beating like a normal human’s by now, a practically  _ racing _ heartbeat for a witcher.

Soothingly Jaskier starts to stroke over his lover's hips, waiting for his permission to continue.

Geralt lets his head fall forwards, and grinds his hips, once, twice, before- “ _ Move. _ ” A demand which came out as more of a whimper, his normally strong and gravelly voice, hoarse and high from so much use. “ _ Fuck _ .”

Sounding amused Jaskier replies, “That’s the plan, yes.” 

Not giving Geralt any time for smart remarks he grabs his hips and  _ lifts _ him, simultaneously drawing him down again and fucking  _ up _ into him,  _ hard _ . The noise Geralt makes is barely audible, something Jaskier has never heard from him before, if one wants to be gracious it could have been called a  _ squeak _ .

Jaskier doesn’t let up, fucking into him with steady and deep thrusts. Geralt is not able to stop shaking from pleasure and overstimulation, his cock leaking between them both messily. “So good darling, perfect for me. You love this don’t you?” Jaskier asks, watching Geralt intently, who gives a jerky nod and whines, his fingers scrambling at Jaskier shoulders.

Jaskier increases his pace, noticing that he isn’t tiring as he ought to and taking shameless advantage of it. “Think you can come like this again, my wolf? Just on my cock?” He wonders out loud. Geralt doesn’t answer, having gone far beyond any rational thought and speech, the only noises coming from him being whines and loud. 

They are both drenched in sweat and come but Jaskier doesn’t mind, knows the witcher _loves_ it too when they both smell like sex and love, Jaskier like him.

Both of them are close, Jaskier can feel it. With effort he increases his speed  _ again _ , his hips snapping up, hitting Geralt's prostate and they are so close he can  _ taste it _ \- “ _ Come with me my wolf _ .”

Geralt’s hips stutter, before his shaking increases and he convulses before stilling and coming all over them both  _ again  _ with a hoarse cry. Jaskier manages to fuck into him once, twice- and then follows the witcher into an earth shaking orgasm. Geralt clenches down, making Jaskier moan loudly, grinding up and holding Geralt by the hips.

With no strength left, Geralt all but collapses forward onto Jaskier, panting into his neck. Laughing, Jaskier strokes over the glistening body of his witcher, who is still shaking from his aftershocks. 

They remain this way for some time until they are breathing normally again and Geralt has stopped shaking. 

Kissing Geralt’s temple, Jaskier asks in a low voice, “Enough my wolf? Or do you want more today?” Shifting his hips with a whine, he ruts against Jaskier’s stomach and the bard notices that the witcher is half hard  _ again _ .

“One of  _ those _ days, hm.” Jaskier muses, a statement rather than a question, he knows what his witcher needs. “Alright, let’s see how many more orgasms I can tease out of you, yes?” He feels Geralt’s nod against his shoulder, accompanied by another whine and a shifting of hips.

Sometimes Geralt couldn’t stand having multiple orgasms in a row, not being able to cope with the sensitivity, the trust needed to let go so completely and sometimes he craved them, craved the overstimulation and the floaty headspace it brought. Though more often than not it was somewhere in between.

Today seems to be on the overstimulation side of said spectrum and Jaskier's chest seizes with a sudden burst of warmth, he is thrilled and astonished once again how much Geralt trusts him. Especially now with this newfound and still slightly unexperienced strength. 

Pulling Geralt down against his chest, not caring for the come smearing them both, he starts to slowly grind up again and belatedly notices that he is half hard again as well.  _ Huh _ , Jaskier thinks,  _ it seems the potion did some more than just strength enhancement _ . Though far be it from Jaskier to be unhappy about  _ that _ .

This time their fucking was a far cry from the previous one, if it can even be called that. Geralt is shaking and rutting uncoordinated against Jaskier, while Jaskier grinds into him slowly. Hips rotating achingly slow before slightly pulling off, waiting, keeping Geralt suspended while he makes whimpering noises and tries to move but to no avail, before Jaskier pulls him down again making the witcher keen. 

Then Jaskier repeats the rhythm, grinding, pulling off, pulling down, again. And again. And  _ again _ .

When Geralt comes this time, it is quiet, the only indication of this a sharp intake and subsequent full body shudder, going limp in Jaskier’s arms. Aftershocks wracking his body and he doesn’t stop making quiet mewling noises. For Geralt to be so open and not notice takes a considerable amount of effort, he doesn’t easily reach this state of complete calm, floating in his headspace. 

Jaskier soothingly pets Geralt’s hair and over his back. “All good my love?”

The witcher shifts slightly, and nods barely noticeable against Jaskier’s throat, and his hand, which has fallen to the side, gives a weak tap against the bedding. 

“So good for me, lovely.” He gives Geralt a soft kiss on his temple before rolling them both to the side, Jaskier’s cock slipping out in the process making Geralt groan and clench around nothing. 

He isn’t empty for long though, Jaskier slipping down and getting a hand under Geralt’s ass, easily lifting him up to watch the seed trickle out of him. Groaning at the sight, Jaskier pushes two fingers in and produces a squelching sound, both slide in without any resistance, making Geralt whimper and gasp.

“So loose darling, wonder how many fingers will fit into you.” Jaskier watches enraptured as the come trickles out faster the more he pushes and without warning he adds a third, reveling in the punched out little noises Geralt makes. “Do we want to see how many you can take tonight, darling?”

The witcher gasps at that, eyes rolling back and trying to fuck himself onto Jaksier‘s fingers, only succeeding minimally his body too lax and Jaskier’s grip too strong.

Jaskier pushes his fingers in and out torturously slow, prodding and crocking them, intentionally always  _ just _ missing Geralt’s prostate. Geralt whimpers and lets out littles gasps, writhing on the bed as much as he is able to. Then, Jaskier pulls out completely, leaving him empty and  _ wanting _ , holeflutterung around nothing. Jaskier draws his fingers around the abused rim, before pushing in again with four fingers. 

The body under him seizes, Geralt letting out a pathetic whimper when Jaskier hits his prostate dead on. Hit it and then remains there, not moving his fingers at all and just putting on a steady pressure.

Jaskier increases his hold on Geralt’s hip, the witcher barely able to shift as he lets out a wet sounding gasp and strung out, garbled noises, trying and failing to form them into words.

Slowly he starts to massage the sensitive bundle, making Geralt yerk and his thighs quiver. His hands flow out to the bedding, weakly grabbing them in an effort to steady himself, an impossible task with Jaskier’s talented fingers up his ass. 

Geralt is nearly mindless with pleasure, shivers wracking his body and eyes rolling back. Out of his mouth a cacophony of little noises that he couldn’t hold back even if he wanted to.

Taking pity on him, Jaskier slides his fingers out, before slowly pushing in again, fucking him with his fingers. Now though, he alternates the slow fucking with the crocking of his fingers and scissoring them. Each time managing to punch out a tiny gasp from the witcher.

His cock stands red and leaking once again, has been since Jaskier has started to finger him again. Jaskier is sure that just the tiniest attention to it would make Geralt come,  _ but _ he wants him to come on his fingers alone or not at all. 

Grinning, Jaskier looks at Geralt’s face, not wanting to miss anything, while he forms his fingers into a cone, tucks his thumb in and slowly  _ pushes. _

Geralt goes bow-string taunt all over, his mouth falling open, gulping in air like he is drowning. The moment Geralt goes tight, Jaskier stopps with his hand halfway in, the other digging fingers into Geralt’s hips, keeping them completely motionless to avoid accidental injury.

He hums a soothing tune, waiting for Geralt to relax again. It takes a few minutes, but gradually the witcher loses the stiffness and goes lax, bit by bit.

When he is ready, Jaskier starts up again, slowly inching his way forward. Whenever Geralt tenses up again, they repeat the cycle, Jaskier waiting and soothing before pushing in again.

There is a bit of resistance when trying to push his knuckles past Geralt’s rim but Jaskier is nothing if not patient, if only for situations like this.

He nudges slightly at the muscle, pressing in a bit before waiting, retreating, and then nudging forwards again. Repeating this a few times, Jaskier then pulls out until only his fingertips remain in Geralt, before pushing in in one long and powerful thrust, burying his whole hand in Geralt’s body.

The witcher gives a full body twitch, his mouth open and producing little  _ ah ah ah _ sounds. 

When Jaskier forms his hand into a fist, Geralt loses the battle and comes with a high keening noise. His cock pulses and shoots a few spurts over them both, followed by garbled noises and moans.

Jaskier gives him no time to adjust, or even for his cock to go soft, fucking him,  _ fisting _ him through his sixth orgasms. He doesn’t pull his punches, fucking Geralt immediately into his seventh orgasm.

For the second time in as many minutes, Geralt comes and this time nearly dry, his cock only giving a few weak spurt of come. 

Geralt is floating on a cloud of bliss, aftershocks and overstimulation knocking him nearly out. Jaskier uses that state of him, to slowly and carefully extract his hand again and lower Geralt’s hips gently to the mattress.

He lets go of them only to slowly stroke over his lover’s body, marveling at the hand shaped bruise he has managed to  _ leave _ . “Everything alright darling?”

Geralt slowly turns his head to look down at Jaskier, his face completely relaxed and his mouth formed into a lopsided smile. He blinks slowly before giving the tiniest inclination of a nod and a deep, satisfied hum.

“That’s good.” Jaskier repelis, pressing a few kisses on the inside of Geralt’s leg. “I’m glad I could make you feel good.”

Geralt gives another hum and clumsily moves his hand to Jaskier’s cheek. The bard uses this to nuzzle into it and press a kiss onto the palm, before slowly pushing himself up and sliding off the bed to sit on the edge. He is careful to maintain a point of contact with Geralt, knowing he often tends to spiral without skin-to-skin contact. 

“I’ll clean us both off, alright darling?” Jaskier murmurs, stroking over Geralt’s body, running down his arm and grabbing his hand, slightly squeezing. Seeing Geralt look to him and blink slowly he takes it as permission to move.

Never letting go of his hand, he fumbles a bit about but manages to stretch enough to get to the crate of soft towels he had left beside the drawer.

Taking one and dipping one side into the still lukewarm water, he shuffles a little higher and starts to gently clean Geralt‘s face and throat with the wet part before using the other side to dry him off. Throwing this towel aside into the general area of the first used one, he gently kisses Geralt and planting some on his cheekbones, chin, eyelids.

The witcher purrs in contentedness, making Jaskier mush their faces together and nuzzling him in happiness.

Grabbing another towel he repeats the steps and goes on to slowly clean his shoulders and upper body, then throwing this towel into the corner as well. Jaskier does that a few times, working down Geralt’s body until everything is mostly free from come and sweat.

All the while, Jaskier gently hums and pauses in his work to leave gentle kisses whenever he is finished with a part.

After he is finished he leans over Geralt and pulls the blanket off and throws it into the direction of the towel corner, sparing a thought to be grateful they were so eager they didn’t even pull them back. After a scrutinizing look he deems the pillow clean enough to remain and then gently nudges Geralt to roll over on the other side of the bed. 

Grumbling a bit he goes along, lying face down. Gently stroking over his back once, Jaskier stands up, which prompts a displeased noise from the witcher. Shushing him, Jaskier pulls off the blanket Geralt was just lying on and throws it aside as well. ”Don’t worry darling, I won’t go. I’ll just clean up a bit.” Which made the grumbling wolf quiet down again. 

On this side the pillow has to go though, having been absolutely soaked in various fluids.

Taking a towel, Jaskier rudimentary cleans himself off as well, before taking another clean one and shuffling back onto the bed, pressing himself against Geralt’s side. Gently he strokes down Geralt’s backside, cleaning it as well. He finishes before long, throwing the cloth aside as well and leaning over Geralt, pressing little kisses along his spine for nothing else than that he  _ can _ . 

Geralt makes a half humming, half grumbling sound in his dozing and trying to burrow further into the bed, making Jaskier laugh quietly. 

“Come now my lovely darling witcher, can’t I shower you with my love?” He asks quietly. Geralt slowly turns his head, looking at him from under snowy lashes and letting out a hum that Jaskier chooses to interpret as ‘Sleep now, love later’. Well or something similar, artistic license and all.

Laughing, Jaskier buries his head into the small of Geralt’s back, nuzzling and kissing him before sitting up again. “Alright alright, I’ll hurry my dear.”

Having said that he slides from the bed and pads around the room, kicking and throwing the soiled blankets and towels into a pile in the corner. Going to the closest he opens it slowly- mindful of the squeaky door which would grate on Geralt’s senses, especially now.

Taking two fresh and soft blankets out, he just leaves the doors open. He takes them and gently lays them both over Geralt who hums in thanks

Jaskier can see that he tries hard to stay awake but he is slowly losing the battle.

Jaskier pours himself a glass of water as well, drinking it down in one gulp before joining Geralt in bed. He scoots close to him and under the blankets, without expending any effort he nudges Geralt on his side to be able to wrap his arms around the witcher.

Geralt with his head burrowed into the crock of Jaskier’s neck and arms around his waist just lets out a content sigh.

“Sleep now darling, you were so good, I love you.” 

With that he tightens his arms around Geralt and closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep. 


End file.
